


pawnee_finances_2010.xlsx

by samalander



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: CIA, Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Metafiction, Superheroes, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:11:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samalander/pseuds/samalander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A document from the computer of Ben Wyatt, never meant for outside eyes, detailing the nighttime adventures of Batman, Burt Macklin, and Janet Snakehole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pawnee_finances_2010.xlsx

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Doyle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doyle/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, Doyle!
> 
> I hope this at least makes you smile, though it might be some of the weirdest fic I've ever written.
> 
>  
> 
> With thanks to Arch, Frea, and Enigma731 for their tireless support.

Pawnee, Indiana. A city on the edge of ruin. A city in the most dire of straits, the most trouble a city can be in.

A city in need. Of a hero.

* * *

Ben Wyatt had two loves in life—accounting, and justice. To most of the world, he was a mild-mannered auditor, a man no more exciting or important than any other. Armed with his sidekick, Dr. Buttons1, Wyatt's quest was a simple one: to bring balance, to restore order and sanity, and to defeat Spending and Waste.

By day, an auditor, but by night, so much more.

* * *

Burt Macklin had grown used to being a Big Fish in the Little Pond that was Pawnee, Indiana. With his lover-cum-nemesis, Janet Snakehole, at his side, the erstwhile CIA agent had been in deep cover for years, infiltrating the local government first as a simple shoeshinesman, an oft-overlooked buffoon by the name of Andy Dwyer.

But Macklin knew something was wrong the day Ben Wyatt sauntered into city hall, with his dour looks and rockstar-tousled hair. Their eyes met, a spark of electricity traveling between the two men.

"Ben Wyatt," the smaller man offered his hand in greeting.

"Andy Dwyer," Macklin replied, gripping the proffered appendage tightly. "What brings you to Pawnee? You here for waffles? We have pretty good waffles."

Wyatt seemed to study Macklin, his eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm here to balance the books," he said, his voice steady, his hand cool and dry. "Maybe if you're nice, I'll let you shine my shoes someday."

Macklin nodded, releasing Wyatt's hand. He couldn't help the pull of attraction he felt for the smaller man, but still, he straightened his shoulders and nodded, letting the auditor walk away.

* * *

Things were quiet at first with Wyatt and Macklin. Though they inhabited the same space, Wyatt was there to take out the corrupt government, to end the thugs who marauded through the Pawnee streets, and Macklin was going after the big dog—the city manager.

They had a few meetings here and there, mostly because of the indefatigable force that was Leslie Knope. But it wasn't until Wyatt's second year in the town, after a strange set of circumstances left him alone and friendless, that anything happened between the men.

* * *

"Come live with us," Janet Snakehole—in the guise of the stunning, sultry, sarcastic April Ludgate—purred at Ben, her heavy-lidded eyes raking over his slight but well-muscled form. "You know it's better than the hotel."

Ben felt the back of his neck break out in a cold sweat, which was odd, seeing as he had dated a lot of tall, statuesque brunettes who were more beautiful than Ludgate.2 "I could do that," he smiled, fixing the smokey temptress with his best sexy gaze.

April fanned herself, Wyatt's animal magnetism starting to get to her, despite her love of the erstwhile Macklin. "I think we would like it," she purrs, her smile like a sexy knife.

Wyatt considered the options carefully—he and Dr. Buttons3 could use a more stable home, but the idea of exposing Ludgate and Dwyer to the danger that was living with The Batman—even in his mild-mannered alter ego state—gave Ben pause. If his most recently failed relationship—with the lovely and devastating Leslie Knope4—was anything to go on, the less involved civilians were with his life, the danger and the adrenaline of taking out sugar- and nipple-themed villains in the mean alleys of Pawnee, the safer it was for everyone.

Still, Ludgate and Dwyer could take care of themselves, and the truth remained that, having recently lost his ladylove, Wyatt would welcome their company. So he agreed.

* * *

It really didn't take much time for things at the Wyatt-Ludgate-Dwyer-Buttons5—household to start seeming… well, odd. It made sense to Ben that he would keep long hours—as the Goddamn Batman, it was kind of in the job description. However, the hours of his roommates started to be suspicious. 

Andy would routinely go out for band practice, claiming to be the lead singer for a band with no consistent name6, leaving April and Ben to stumble awkwardly around each other, both trying to deny the burgeoning yearning that was running hot through all the residents of the home. Little touches of fingers here, an accidental thigh graze there—it was all building to something, and Wyatt knew it. He knew it was dangerous, knew he should get out to protect his roommates, as well as himself. But he just couldn't bring himself to let go of the warm, homey attachment he'd formed.

It was a Thursday and, having made excuses about a Seven Wonders tournament down at the Comic and Porn Emporium, Ben was on patrol. It had been quiet in Pawnee—too quiet,7 and it was only a matter of time until something went terribly wrong. Ben was casing the area around city hall—because it was a huge locus of power, it was sure to attract evil in the same magnitude.8

He was not expecting to find his roommate skulking about, but there he was, none other than the allegedly band-practice-bound Andy Dwyer, sunglasses on and collar popped to the wind, jimmying open the window of Local Authority Ron Swanson's office.

_Zounds!_ , thought the Batman. _I'm cohabitating with a criminal!_ He did the only thing he could, as the world's greatest detective—he went to apprehend the scoundrel.

Ben noticed several lights still burning in city hall which, while not totally unusual for Pawnee, seemed a little out of place for a Friday night, and in any office other than Ms. Knope's.

The combination of Andy's break-in and the burning lights caused the hairs in the back of Ben's toned and well-muscled neck to sit up straight. He schooled himself to caution, slowly approaching the building and peering in the window of a lit office.

It was the office of none other than Chris Traeger, the City Manager, and a man Ben would have called a friend. Traeger was grinning and laughing, which was not unusual for Chris, but he was also petting a white cat, which seemed just a little weird9. Ben moved to get a better view of the room, which is when he saw the even weirder stuff—Traeger was joined by the goons from sanitation, and they were holding Andy between them.

So, _something_ weird was going on, Ben knew that.

"Burt Macklin!" Chris exclaimed, in his cheeriest voice. "I was hoping to see you!"

"I bet you were," Andy—or, apparently, Burt?—spit back. "Chris Traeger. Or should I say-- The Trage Monster!"

Ben's heart jumped in his chest. The idea that his good friend Chris, who he'd known for so long and been Auditing Bros with, could be the nefarious criminal known as the Trage Monster was just horrifying. Well, it was horrifying that he hadn't figured it out sooner, with a name like that, but Ben liked to think he trusted Chris, that they were friends.

"Killing you is LIT'rally going to be the highlight of my day—and I had a kale smoothie for lunch!" Chris was saying, still petting the mysterious cat. 

"Aren't you going to tell me your plan?" Maybe-Andy asked, causing another insane laugh from Chris, which was just unsettling.

"It's simple!" Chris crowed. "The secret is in— _calzone_. Inferior to pizza in every way, yes, but also the perfect vehicle to use this!" Chris held up a little vial of blue liquid, which shone in the dark. "This little beauty, hidden in the cheese, will addict everyone in Pawnee—to EXERCISE!"

Ben couldn't help himself—he gasped in horror. That fiend! Violating the calzone that way!

"But why?" Andy insisted. 

"Because! Because a fit population is a happy population! And a happy population is a docile population! They won't care that we're taking over the world, when they're so busy jogging!"10

"I say thee, nay!" Andy roared, struggling against his guards. Ben sat down hard on his heels, shocked at the realization that Chris was a maniacal villain though, really, it made a little bit of sense.

The sound of a gun cocking roused Ben from his thoughts, and he held up his hands instinctually. 

"Turn around," a smoky voice commanded. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Ben did as he was ordered, turning to find—April?

"Who are you?" she hissed, looking over Ben's costume. 

"The Batman," Ben replied, his voice low and gravelly like Christian Bale, except way sexier.

"Did Burt get captured?" she asked, and Ben nodded.

"Who are you?" he asked, remembering that he wasn't supposed to know his roommate.

"Janet Snakehole," she replied. "Heiress and rogue CIA agent. Here to take out the Trage Monster, with my partner. Should I kill you?"

Ben made a split second decision, because he knew he could trust April. He always had. He reached up and pulled off his mask. 

"Ben!" she exclaimed, surprise and arousal warring on her face. "You're the Batman?"

"We have to save Andy," he replied, rather than play the game where they talked about their tragic pasts.11

"His name is Burt Macklin," April replied, but she also nodded and started leading the way into City Hall, briefing him on the situation—where the guards were. It was a frontal assault, April-Janet on point and Ben flanking her because he didn't have a gun.

Watching her work, the way she slunk through the halls and kicked all the bad guys in the face, Ben felt like he knew how Richard felt in _Neverwhere _, when he watched Hunter fight. Grace and danger and the glint of a blade, all in a cyclone of femininity. It wasn't long before they'd reached Traeger's office.__

They burst through the door, Ben and April-Janet each karate chopping one of the guards in the face so them went down and stayed there. Meanwhile, Andy was tied to the desk, an inexplicable pendulum slowly creeping closer and closer to slicing him in half.

"Ben Wyatt!" Traeger cried, and Ben realized he'd forgotten to put his mask back on. "And April Ludgate!"

"My name is Janet Snakehole!" April growled, raising her gun. "And you killed my father."

Chris smiled, unhinged in a way that Ben had only seen before after one of his marathon marathons12, just laughed again. "Don't you know?" he cackled. "I didn't kill your father! You did!"

Janet rolled her eyes. "Really, dude?" she asked, shooting him neatly between the eyes.

Ben rushed to Andy's side. "Are you okay?" he asked, cutting through the ropes to free his friend before the inexplicable pendulum killed him.

"Yeah, I—Janet?"

Ben and Andy both turned to look at April who was standing over Chris's prone body. She looked up at them and grinned. "That," she said, "was LIT'rally the best feeling I've ever had."

* * *

Ben helped April and Andy—sorry, Janet and Burt—home after they called for a wetworks team to dispose of the baddies they'd beaten up.

"So," Ben smiled, unlocking the front door. "I guess now we know each other's secrets."

"Yeah," April nodded. "Which means we should totally have a hot threesome."

Ben nodded, suave and debonair and not choking on his tongue at all. "Not tonight," he said. "My heart is still broken over Leslie Knope and losing my job and—I'd love to give you the night of your life, but—I'm just not ready. Emotionally."

Andy reached forward, his large rough hand cupping the Back of Ben's neck. Ben could hardly make a sound before his friend hauled him close, their bodies pressing together as they kissed. April cheered.

Ben broke away, breathless, and took a step back. "Andy, I—"

Andy waved him off. "Do what you need to do, bro. I'm here. And so is she. And when you're ready, you're invited."

Ben nodded and turned, heading back into the night, April's words floating after him.

"Babe, that was so hot. You need to kiss more dudes!"

* * *

In the night, a figure. Lurking on rooftops. Fighting against Sweetums and Kernstons, and all other thugs out in the darkness. He is vengance. He is righteousness. Wherever there is a government spending recklessly, wherever a friend turns out to be a maniac set on world domination, wherever a woman has a quest to become a City Councilwoman, he is there. Not to harm, not to hinder. To help. To right wrongs, to balance budgets, to stop innocent teenagers from bankrupting their towns.

Is he sleeping with his roommates? Most likely.

Is he a villain? Maybe.

Is he a hero? No.

He is the Batman.

* * *

1\. PhD in economics, Harvard, 2010. Thesis entitled "Calculations and the Developing World—How Mass Production and Electronics Can Enhance Through Microloans" Dr. Buttons serves as chair of the London School of Economics Department of Mechanized Integrals, where he taught Josiah Bartlett and met his lovely wife, Titania Ianesco, the 80th Marquese of Essos. They can often be found in the wintery paradise of Pocet Proctria, where they have seven or eight vacation homes.↩  
2\. Previous paramores include, but are not limited to, Deanna Troi, Donna Meagle, Kahlan Amnell the mother confessor, Ellen Ripley, Guinan, Nyota Uhura, and Donna Hayward.↩  
3\. Dr. Buttons was currently staying with Ben out of the kindness of his circuits, helping Ben through a rough patch.↩  
4\. Knope would later be revealed as City Councilor, a force of righteous good, and breaking up had been the pair’s attempt to protect each other, as ill-founded as it may have been.↩  
5\. Dr. Buttons felt that, as a rent-paying member of the household, he was due representation on the mailbox. The others pointed out that he received no mail, having his official residence in London, but the Doctor was insistent that, as he was the one who managed the household finances (being the best at math) he had a right. No one seemed able to argue with that.↩  
6\. Wyatt keeps a spreadsheet that lists each name, as well as duration of said name and any and all songs written while the band used the moniker. Alleged names include but are not limited to: A.D. and the D Bags; The Andy Andy Andies; Andy Dwyer Experience; Angelsnack; Crackfinger; Death of a Scam Artist; Department of Homeland Obscurity; Everything Rhymes with Orange; Fiveskin; Flames For Flames; Fleetwood Mac Sexpants; Fourskin; God Hates Figs; Hand Grill Suicide; Jet Black Pope; Just The Tip; Malice In Chains; Mouse Rat; Muscle Confusion; Ninjadick; Nothing Rhymes with Blorange; Nothing Rhymes with Orange; Penis Pendulum; Possum Pendulum; Punch Face Champions; Puppy Pendulum; Rad Wagon; Razordick; Teddy Bear Suicide; Threeskin; Two Doors Down; Scarecrow Boat. ↩  
7\. Roughly 21.64 decibels, well below the average for a suburban neighborhood.↩  
8\. Being vectors, evil and power have both a magnitude and a direction, allowing for the existence of good and powerlessness.↩  
9\. Mostly because Chris was a dog person. He had nothing against cats, he just seemed unable to understand an animal who slept 15 hours a day and didn't have any desire to go for a run.↩  
10\. Jogging is the worst.↩  
11\. Having become a boy mayor at 18 and ruined the town with his winter sports complex, Ice Town, Wyatt had decided to dedicate himself to two things: balanced budgets and justice. Janet, on the other hand, had grown up in the best of circumstances, until her family had all been killed in what people thought was a freak accident at a gym—but Janet had always known better. Always.↩  
12\. Once a year or so, Chris would run 26.2 marathons in 26.2 days. Ben wondered how he'd ever thought of his friend as mentally stable.↩  



End file.
